“I’ll check with her now and phone you right back,” Higgins promised.
Annabel knew it wasn’t good news from the sound of his voice and the look on his face. “What’s happened?”
Annabel plunked down on the chesterfield and he informed her about the break-in. “Seems the perp hit your associate’s house before we could implement our contingency plan, which suggests all the more need for one at the gallery.”
Jumping to her feet she asked, “Is she alright? Was she hurt?”
Standing and taking her hands in his he tried to reassure her, “She wasn’t home and she’s fine. We’ve got a patrol car posted to ward off another attempt should he return which I doubt he will. He got what he was after, plus it’s too risky now.”
“Because he can’t find me he’s going after those closest to me,” she quickly surmised.
“Seems so. We never discussed any other family or close friends.”
“Amber and Ted, of course, but there’s Jennifer and Harry Moncton, Justin and Mabel Forbes and Gretchen Franks. I don’t spend as much time with them as Amber and Ted, but we’re still close.”
“Give me their addresses and phone numbers and I’ll have patrol cars alert them and drive by a couple of times a day just in case. A show of force will have him thinking twice.”
Sitting back down she asked, “How did he find out about them?”
“Probably picked up some clues while searching your place – photos, correspondence most likely. Probably hit social media to find out who you chat with and took it from there.”
“Shit! What about my clients? I often inform them of new works of art available and we discuss gallery openings.”
“That’s probably more work than he’s prepared to go to, but close friends, different story.”
She listed phone numbers and addresses of anyone she thought he might take an interest in. “This is unthinkable!”